


but what would you do for me, my love?

by fuglychan



Series: the list [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Corporal Punishment, Crying, Daddy Kink, Dancing, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings!, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Humiliation, M/M, Men Crying, Military Kink, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Torture, Slow Dancing, Spanking, Sub Peter Parker, Teasing, Torture, Unrequited Love, all the smut is really in chapter 3, and will be in chapter 4, peter parker is a slut, poly avengers, ruined orgasm, sad sex, the whole shebang
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23308399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuglychan/pseuds/fuglychan
Summary: (Continuation of "the list of things i'd do for you is never-ending." Please read that first before this one!)Peter didn't get quite what he wanted with Tony. After whoring himself out on film for him, Tony gives in to a relationship with Peter, but it wasn't quite what he was expecting. Peter struggles to find more ways to make him love him, but at what cost?
Relationships: (for like 2 seconds lmao), Peter Parker/Avengers Team, Peter Parker/James "Bucky" Barnes, Peter Parker/Sam Wilson, Peter Parker/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, peter parker/bucky barnes/sam wilson/steve rogers, peter parker/bucky barnes/steve rogers
Series: the list [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665889
Comments: 54
Kudos: 445





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> boooo, worst summary, im sorry, im so new at this genre??? i can write fluffy angst and smut but,,, idk wtf this is,,, romance??? ew

Tony fell into Peter’s small bed beside him. His chest heaved, out of breath from their endeavour. 

Peter was still. He stared at his ceiling. Cum was already drying to his stomach, but he didn’t care enough to wipe it yet. 

“Remind me to buy you a bigger bed,” Tony said, propping himself up with his chin resting in his open palm. He leaned over Peter. “You okay, Peter?” 

Peter’s eyes were wet, which wasn’t uncommon after their sessions. Usually from pleasure, sometimes from pain, but usually… usually from the man himself. 

He loved Tony. He loved him so much it made his throat hurt. 

He wanted him to hold him, to pepper him with kisses, to fuck him because he  _ loved  _ him. 

“Tony,” he said, rolling his head to the side. “I… I really like you.” 

“You know I’m married.” Peter moved to a sitting position, covering himself with the comforter. “My heart belongs to Pepper.” 

“I know,” he frowned, biting his lip. “She… She doesn’t have to know.” It hurt just to say it. He knew he didn’t mean it. 

He wanted him to leave her for him. 

It was irrational, he knew. But he loved him. 

And love does make him a fool. 

“She already knows about us.” His tone was casual. 

_ Us.  _

Like it was nothing to him. 

“Peter, you were… you were like a son to me.” His hands ached for a drink. “You turned me into a dirty old man, lusting after you like that.” 

“But did you like me?” he asked, staring at him with a cold gaze. “Did you ever once consider me in that way?” He clenched his fist. “I want to be enough for you, Tony. I…” He grabbed Tony’s hands suddenly and leaned in. “I want to be with you.” 

He broke a smile. “What, want me to go to Prom with you?” 

Peter frowned. “I graduated, dickhead.” 

“Whoa.” Tony grabbed his shoulder gently. “I was kidding, baby. I know, you’re in college. You’re not a kid anymore.” 

The anger fizzled in his stomach. He pushed it aside. “I have to go.” Peter stood up from the bed, wiping Tony’s cum off of him with a towel. “Bye, Tony.” 

He fled his room, not waiting for his reply. He slammed the door shut behind him and didn’t stop until he ran straight into a wall. 

“Whoa, Pete!” Peter, sniffling, pulled back to face a concerned Steve. “Where’s the fire?” 

Peter wiped at his face to hide any evidence of a tear. His face was dry; he’s done enough crying in the past few days that he’s left empty. “I’m… late for work.” 

Steve raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Oh, are you now?” It’s clear in his voice that he doesn’t believe his lie for a second. 

Voice coming out warbled, he replied, “Yeah, so… I’ll just… be on my way.” A large sniffle interrupted his sentence. 

Peter pushed past him to grab his shoes from the doorway. He slipped into them, threw his bag over his shoulder, and was almost out the door when Steve caught his arm. “Wait.” 

Peter looked up at him with his gigantic doe eyes. “Yeah?” 

“Come here,” he said, pulling on Peter suddenly. He let out a surprised shriek as Steve yanked him into a tight bear hug. 

“Steve, I gotta go!” He really didn’t, but if Steve kept holding him like this, he really might cry. 

“Where are you working?” 

“McDonald’s.” 

“Really, Peter?” 

“Nah, fine, you got me.” Peter sighed heavily. “Hooter’s.” 

Steve wrapped his arms around his waist and threw him on top of the couch. He climbed on top of him a moment later and dug his fingers into his exposed belly. Peter let out a maniac giggle and pushed him away. “Hooters, huh?” 

“Steve, it was a joke, let me go!” He could barely get the words out. 

“Why are you so ticklish?” Steve asked, experimentally squeezing his side. Peter jolted away from the touch and gripped on to the couch as tightly as he could. 

“Hah- I’m not!” he cried, struggling to get away. 

Breaking the moment in the room, Peter’s door swung open. Tony came out, now dressed, and gave a careful eye to the giggling mess on the couch. 

He didn’t meet his eye. 

Steve didn’t wait until Tony was gone to tease his side again. “You would make a really pretty girl.” 

“That’s why they pay me so well--Oh my god, Steve!” Peter cackled, using his super strength to throw Steve, pinning him to the couch instead. “Hah!” He tazzed him under his armpits but got no reaction. “How you like them apples?” 

“You should know,” a voice drawled as a pair of arms snaked around him, “Not to poke a sleeping bear.” 

Bucky pulled him off of Steve and into his lap. He sunk back on the couch, holding Peter steady as Steve sat up. “Bucky, what’re you--Oh my god! Oh my god! Bucky-Eep!” 

“What was that noise?” Bucky teased, squeezing his side. 

Steve crept up on him then, joining Bucky and digging his fingers into his neck. “Oh my god, stop! Hah-I can’t breathe!” Peter scrambled to get out of their hold, but between two supersoldiers, he had no chance, especially when he could barely get his words out. 

He spotted Sam, making his way down the staircase with an empty mug in hand. “Sam! Sam!” he screamed. “Sam, help! Help, please!” 

Sam set his mug down in the sink and made his way over to the couch. “You need a hand?” 

“Yes, please!” he said, reaching out to Sam. 

A malicious grin spread across his face, and Peter was too late. Sam brushed a finger against his knee, and Peter yelped. “Oh my god, Sam! Traitor!” 

“You asked for a hand,” he shrugged. 

“Not like that!” he cried. “Oh my god, okay, enough, enough.” 

They stopped then, but Peter couldn’t stop laughing. He went limp in Bucky’s lap and buried his head into his neck. “You’re so mehean,” he cackled, voice raspy. 

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, forming a claw with his hand. 

“No! No, I take it back!” he said, grabbing his hand. “Nope, you’re so kind, Sergeant Barnes. Nicest person I know.” 

“Yeah,” he said, caressing his cheek. “You deserve the best, Peter.” His joking manner dropped completely. Peter’s eyes widened at the gentle declaration and smiled, blinking up at him shyly. “You’re your cutest when you’re happy.” 

Peter scoffed. “I  _ am  _ happy.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew how much of a lie it was. 

Dread spread throughout his body. 

“I… I really am…” he trailed off, struggling to convince himself. Before he knew it, warm salty tears were forming in his eyes. “I really am happy.” 

“Oh, Peter,” Steve sighed softly, opening his arms for Peter to fall into. He buried his head into his neck and sobbed softly. “It’s okay.” 

“I love him, Steve.” 

A warm hand pressed against his back. “I know, Peter.” 

\-- 

He never did go to prom. 

Peter had a bad history with dances. His first homecoming he was attacked by his date’s father. Not… Not good memories. Not really. 

By the time his junior year had come around, he couldn’t go with MJ and Ned. Tickets were expensive, and they didn’t really want to go either. MJ claimed it was a “senior year” experience and left it at that. 

Though, senior year he didn’t even get to dance. He took pictures with them, ate with them, but did he actually get to go to the dance before aliens attacked New York? No, of course not. 

It was just a stupid dance. 

Peter didn’t care. He had to miss out on a lot of things. He didn’t get to hang out with his friends, he didn’t get to go to parties, he didn’t get to be a teenager. He had too much responsibility. 

And that’s okay. He accepted that a long time ago. 

He just wanted to dance with one man. 

Tony. 

“Where’d you go?” 

He touched him softly, gently. Tony has calloused hands, yet when he touches Peter, he has the softest grip. 

“I’m here.” It’s a lie, and they both know it. Peter can’t focus. 

“Am I that much of a bore to you?” Tony asked, cupping the sides of his face. Peter’s back is pinned to the bed, and Tony is holding up both of his knees. “Or, I see, you’re fantasizing about something. Come on, share with the class.” 

“No, it’s not like that,” Peter mumbled. 

Intriqued, Tony rubbed circles into his side. “No, tell me. What’s got you so excited?”

“Well…” He didn’t really want to say it, but he couldn’t turn Tony down. “We… We were dancing.” 

His smirk dropped off his face. Clearly, it wasn’t what he was expecting. “Dancing? Like… exotically?”

He knew he wouldn’t get it. “Just dancing. Slowly. You and me.” 

“I’d like that,” he said. 

“Really?” Peter asked, eyes opening wide. “You’d want to dance with me?” 

“Sounds hot,” he said, shrugging blatantly. “Put on a little show? Hell, yeah.” 

Peter wasn’t a good dancer anyways. 

\--

It’s late at night. Peter really should be asleep, but he’s not. He’s wide awake in the compound’s studio. 

Natasha used it to teach him ballet a couple times, but honestly, Peter likes to come here sometimes and just… dance. 

He’s not good. Not at all. 

He’s flexible, and that counts for something. He mimics what he’s seen Natasha do, practices what she’s taught him. 

And, then sometimes, he just thrashes. He just… moves. It’s not really dancing, but it helps. Makes him feel alive. 

At 3 am, no one should’ve been in the gym. 

Just Peter. 

And his music. 

His song fades out, and by the time it’s over, Peter’s chest is hitching frantically. He’s so spent and out of breath. Sighing, he wiped the sweat off of his forehead. He spun on his heels to grab his water bottle, but he stopped short when he noticed a smirking Bucky leaning against the wall. 

Bucky held out his water bottle, which he gratefully accepted. He uncapped it and hesitantly looked up at him. “So… you saw?” 

“Oh, yeah,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve got quite the skills there.” 

He snorted. “Yeah, I know. ‘Don’t quit your dayjob.’” 

“Can I…?” Bucky gestured towards the radio, and Peter nodded. 

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “You know my passcode.” 

Bucky picked up the phone and took his time finding a new song. “Can’t take my eyes off you” starts playing, and Bucky holds out his hand. 

“Dance with me.” 

Peter pointed at himself. “Me?” 

“Yes, you,” he said, smiling. “Dance with me.” Peter grabbed his hand, letting out a surprised shriek when Bucky pulled him close. He snuck a hand down around his waist, and Peter locked his hands behind his head. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Peter apologized, stepping on his foot. 

Bucky waved him off, rocking with him gently to the song. Peter stepped on him again and again, but he didn’t seem to mind. He twirled Peter around a couple times, and Peter giggled. 

“You really are the cutest thing,” Bucky said, pressing his forehead against his. Peter gulped. 

Really, Parker. Falling in love with married men? 

Not smart. 

Not smart at all.

  
  



	2. i can't handle change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a hot fucking mess (not in the good way) 
> 
> no smut this chapter either wtf

Peter knew he was beautiful. 

He sat in front of his mirror with his knees hugged to his chest. His brown curls cascaded around his face perfectly, framing his milky white skin. He wore red, Tony’s favorite color. 

He was beautiful. 

Why wasn’t it enough? 

Peter fixed his hair one last time, making sure everything was in its place. He slipped on a Stark Industries hoodie over his lingerie and headed for Tony’s lab. 

Of course, he can’t go anywhere in this compound without running into someone. 

“Hi,” he greeted shyly, tugging on the back of his hoodie. He wore boyshort lace underwear, which could almost pass as shorts but not really with his asscheeks out. “How are you today, Steve?” 

“I’m doing good. How about you?” Just as Peter opened his mouth to reply, Steve leaned in close, nose pressed into his neck. 

“S-Steve?” he stammered, not moving. Steve sniffed him one last time before drawing back. 

“You smell so sweet.” 

Peter blinked a couple times. “Uh, thank you.” 

“Dressing up for a dick appointment, I see,” Sam hummed, eyeing him cautiously as he clamps a hand down on Steve’s shoulder. 

Peter couldn’t deny it. 

“We would invite you on a run, but I take it you’re busy.” Steve smirked before walked off. “Bye, Peter.” 

He was too stunned to say a goodbye. He watched them walk away before spinning on his heels and heading for Tony. 

He opened the door of the lab, prepared to spill to Tony about the encounter in the hallway, when he spotted Pepper. 

He knew he wasn’t a secret to her, but he didn’t want to face her right now. She was nice, always kind to him. 

And it made him feel really guilty about having sex with her husband. 

He ducked behind a shelf of tools, sticking to it. 

“Oh, fuck, Pep.” 

He shouldn’t be here. 

He  _ really  _ shouldn’t be here. 

“You’ve been busy while I’ve been gone.” Her voice is soft, but Peter’s hearing picks it up on the other side of the room. “Fucking that little intern of yours?” 

Peter cocked his head to the side. He hasn’t been an “intern” under Tony for years. 

“She’s nothing compared to you, Pepper.” His voice is hoarse. Peter knows it too well from experience. 

Did she… peg him? 

Down his throat? 

Has he been crying? 

“Oh, I know, baby,” she said, cooing in her melodic voice. “I know you’ll always be mine. Even when fucking others, you always think about me, don’t you?” 

There’s a muffled gasp. 

He doesn’t want to look, but he does. Pepper has her hand wrapped around his throat. 

“Tell me… How do you like fucking Peter, the boy who was once like a son to us?” 

Peter should leave. 

He should. 

Really. 

Leave. 

“Are you kidding me?” Peter’s chest tightened. “Kid’s nothing compared to you.” 

If the others heard the rattle of an air vent, they didn’t comment on it. 

Peter barely made it to his bedroom. He collapsed on top of his bed and buried his face into his pillow. 

He couldn’t even cry anymore. 

He sits up, looking at himself in his mirror. 

It’s funny, really, how heartbreak can make you see yourself. 

He puts a hand over his burning throat. Sighing, he gets off the bed and heads out to the kitchen, which he really thought would be empty. 

“You’re going to miss your appointment,” Sam joked before seeing the expression on his face. “Whoa, Pete, you okay?” 

“Yeah,” he croaked, stumbling into the kitchen. He opened the cabinet to pull out a glass. “Just thirsty.” He pressed it against the fridge and waited for his glass to fill up. “How come you didn’t leave yet for your run?” 

“Waiting on Buck,” Sam sighed. “Steve’s trying to get him now.” 

“Oh.” Silence fell over them. 

“Peter, go running with us.” 

Peter shrugged. “I… I should stay.” 

“No, go get changed,” he ordered. 

“But…” 

“None of that shit, go. Go on.” He shoved Peter into the direction of his bedroom. Some of his water sloshed out of his glass. 

Steve and Bucky finally arrived at the bottom of the stairs. “Okay,” he sighed impatiently. “Now we’re ready to go.” 

Sam bit his lip. “Nah, Pete’s still changing.” 

Steve wore a blank expression. 

…

At least Peter didn’t take too long to change. He stumbled out in his old highschool gym uniform. “It’s been a while since I’ve worked out!” he said, pulling down on his shorts. They came up a little bit short. He pulled his arms over his head and stretched his back. “I’m ready!” 

A malicious grin spread across Sam’s face. “Wait, Peter, you should stretch more. So you don’t tear something.” 

Peter cocked his head to the side. “I don’t really stretch too much. Don’t need to,” he shrugged. 

“But you should.” Sam elbowed Steve roughly in the side. “Right?” 

Steve glared at him. His morals were more in tact. 

But, clearly, by not too much because he surrendered and nodded. “Yes, stretching is important.” 

Peter huffed but leaned down to touch his toes. “I don’t even feel it,” he claimed. 

Bucky had to hide his laughter. 

Peter moved into a split position and brought his head down to his knee. “Told you, I was flexible!” 

“We already knew that, Pete,” Bucky joked, and Peter lost his concentration and lost his form. 

He staggered to his feet, accepting Sam’s hand. He brushed the dirt off of his blue uniform and stuck his tongue out at Bucky. “Well…!” 

“Was impressive, though.” 

“Thanks.” He didn’t look him in the eye. “Alright, let’s get going!” 

“You need a headstart, Sam?” Bucky joked, and Sam scoffed at him. 

Steve started his timer, and that was that. They were off. 

It didn’t take him long to pass Sam. He was in the dust soon enough. 

Steve, though, was a fair match. He and Bucky ran at a similar pace - with the both of them trying to pass each other. 

“Karen, switch song, please,” Peter requested, and the music coming from his watch, the one he made himself in Tony’s lab, switched to a slower paced song. 

A breeze blew past him while he ran. It wasn’t unpleasant, a vast change from the usual cold air slapping him in the face. 

It felt… nice. Peaceful. 

His GPS told him he was at the turning point, but he kept going. His legs kept going - one foot in front of the other until he was at the beach. Bucky spotted him going off track and stopped at the turning point. 

“What is he doing?” Bucky asked, panting as he pulled to a stop. Steve stopped right after him. 

He really did look like a lunatic - sprinting towards the beach like he was. 

They exchanged glances. “Let’s leave him be, yeah?” 

He was  _ definetely  _ going through something. 

Later, when they reached the compound, Sam came in, breathless. “Hah! Yes!” He put his hands over his head. “Wait, where’s Pete?” 

“Seems he got carried away,” Steve shrugged. 

They stretched a bit more - Sam, especially, as being the one actually vulnerable to strains. Once inside, they were met with Nat and Clint, chilling on the couch. He was arguing with her over the game, but she was indifferent. Tony put his tablet down. “Clint, you  _ clearly  _ lost.” 

He looked up at their entrance. “Where’s Peter?” 

Bucky glared at him. “Why do you need to know?” 

Perplexed, Tony leaned back. “What pissed you off now?” 

Bucky was  _ this  _ close to grabbing him by the collar, but Steve held him back. “He’s still running,” Sam explained. “You know when you go out for a half marathon, and you just want to do some more?” 

Clint furrowed his eyebrows together. “No, honestly, I really do not know.” He picked up his soda. “Lunatics.” 

Yes, Clint and Nat were athletes in their own way, but they didn’t like to get their exercise in by long runs. They prefered calisthenics type workouts, and so did Tony, but they operated at a far more advanced level. Oh, and boxing, and gymnastics, etc… They liked to switch it up. 

“You let him go out by himself?” Tony asked. “Alone?” 

“He’s an adult,” Bucky said, voice cold. 

Tony scoffed. “Yes, I know.” He added in a quieter voice, “I’d be in a lot of trouble if he wasn’t.” 

Bucky gritted his teeth. Steve put an affectionate hand on his elbow, but he knew he was holding back too. 

“He can take care of himself,” Sam reasoned. “He’s been stressed, cooped up in here and at work. He needs a break.” 

“That kid’s a magnet for trouble. Really impressionable, too. He’ll do anything someone askes him to,” he said, laughing. Natasha side-eyed him from her game. “If a burglar held him at gunpoint, he’d probably ask him about his life story over cheap coffee.” 

That was it. Steve let go, but Bucky didn’t move. He stood there, glued to the floor. He was holding himself back. 

He wasn’t worth it. 

It isn’t his fight, after all. 

Sam didn’t care enough to hold back. “Fuck you, dude,” he growled. “Seriously? Peter did all of that for you, you know.” 

Tony raised his eyebrow out of amusement. This was the first time they were really talking about it face to face. It had been the elephant in the room. Nobody had dared to talk about it beyond closed doors. 

But now shit has hit the fan, and all hell breaks loose. 

“What?” Tony asked, feigning innocence. “Yeah, he’s a nice kid with a good boy complex. You know as much as I do that he likes to please.” 

“You!” Sam roared. “He likes to please you!” 

Tony’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything else. They didn’t give him the chance. 

Sam spun on his heels and he was out of the house. Bucky and Steve, silent as a mouse, slipped out after him - grabbing the car keys while he was on it. 

Clint’s controller hit the ground. “Yo… What the fuck, Tony?” 

\--- 

It was a short drive to the beach. 

The Avengers Compound consisted of a lot of private land - the shore of NYC included. When they arrived there, they found Peter with his feet in the sand. 

His sweatshirt, socks, and shoes were folded neatly in the grass. A trail of footprints dissappeared in the water where Peter stood tall, his messy brown hair going in every direction with the wind. 

His watch was still playing music. 

“It’s nice out here,” he sighed, dreamily, not having to turn to know they were behind him. “Did you--” His words fell short when he did turn around to face those three. His shock fell and was replaced by a wry smile. “Of course, it’s you.” 

“Peter?” 

“Oh, I meant no offense!” he cried, obviously flustered. “No, no, not at all!” He paled. “Really, I should’ve known… I don’t know why I thought you were him.” 

Bucky’s flesh hand lightly cupped the side of his face. Peter leaned into the warmth. “I was foolish,” he confessed. “I know… It wasn’t meant to be. He has a wife.” Something dawned on him, and he slapped Bucky’s hand away, moving back from him. 

“Peter…” 

“No, I’m sorry,” he apologized. His doe eyes welled up, filling with sincere tears. He was smiling sadly, and the sunlight of the setting sun bore down on him. “I am, really. I shouldn’t have played around with you three like that. It… It wasn’t right.” 

Bucky grabbed his hand, and Peter shoved him. “No! No, Bucky, I’m done confusing myself!” He wiped at his face, smile gone with the breeze. “I can’t do it…!” His hands grabbed at his chest. “I can’t get my heart broke again.” 

Peter let out a sob, and Bucky had never heard such a devastating sound come out of his mouth. He was always happy, trying his best to smile. Even when he was hurting, he was cheerful. 

He was a mess, still trying to smile even as he was breaking down. 

Bucky stepped forward to the crying man, gently wrapping his arms around him. Peter fought it, but he didn’t push him hard enough for it to matter. “No,” he cried softly, eventually burying his head into Bucky’s chest. “It’s okay, Peter. It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” he managed, voice cracking with his own wail. 

Bucky firmly grasped his shoulders and put enough distance between them so he could look into his piercing blue eyes. “Look at me, Peter,” he barked. Peter’s teary eyed shifted to look at him. 

And then he kissed him. 

Peter’s arms fell to his side as Bucky grabbed him with such a gentle grip and planted his lips against his. His crying stopped, and Bucky was there to kiss his tears away. 

It was the first time he was kissed outside of sex. 

When he pulled away, Peter put a hand over his mouth. 

Bucky smiled genuinely before having to hide his laughter. 

Peter grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Stop laughing!” 

“I’m sorry,” he joked, not sounding all that apologetic. “Only you, Peter, to get embarrassed by a little kiss after all we’ve done.” Peter squaked, but Bucky kissed him again. “Peter, come live with us.” 

“...What?” Too much stuff was happening all at once. “What? I--” 

“With me and Steve. If you want romance, we’ll give you that. If you want just sex, we’ll give you that. If you just want a friend, that’s good too.” 

Peter’s head was about to split in half. He looked between Bucky, Sam, and Steve. “I… I… I don’t know what to say.” 

“That’s okay,” he said, and with his words, a calmness washed over Peter. “It’s okay to not know what you want.” He jabbed a thumb over to Sam. “He’s living with us for friends with benefits!” 

Sam’s right eyebrow rasied, an indicator he was slightly peeved at the man. “I don’t like the way you say that, Barnes.” 

Peter broke into a harsh laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, I’m in.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all this is so sappy i hate this shit, im writing smut next time, mark my fucking worms
> 
> anyways, thank you guys so much for ur support!! im really nervous with the way im taking this, so i appreciate yall so much <33


	3. become the warm jets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we haven't had smut in a while, so here we are! 
> 
> **oh a little bit of daddy kink in this chapter! (if ur not a fan, you'll prob be fine, it's just a couple times)   
> and bucky is a lil cruel but not really,

It was uncomfortable. 

Peter felt like he was taking too much space, everytime he was hungry, he felt guilty. It was hard to breathe - feeling like his existence was a burden. 

But it was better here. He liked their cute little house - small, even though he knew they could afford bigger. Homely. Small. 

It had acres of space around it, so it was secluded. A safeplace. 

  
  


“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?” 

It was the fifth time Bucky had asked. Peter chuckled and put a hand over his mouth. He and Sam were sitting on the couch. 

“Yes, Buck,” he sighed. “I’ll be fine.” 

“At least take your helmet,” Sam called. 

Steve shot him a half smile. “Ok, Mom.” He slipped his gear over his shoulder. “Nat and I should be back in time for dinner, but don’t wait up for us.” 

Bucky waved him a goodbye (after nagging him some more) and shut the door. He fell back on the couch and kicked his feet up on the counter. 

“You’re kind of like a housewife,” Peter said, yawning. He had just woken up, and his brain wasn’t too clear. If he was more awake, he wouldn’t have said what he had. “Or, more like a deadbeat husband? With the progressive wife! Not that I’m stereotyping a homosexual relationship since you two are both men--” A couch pillow hit him in the forehead with such force he was knocked over. 

“Be nice to the baby gay,” Sam said, grabbing his coffee off the counter. 

“I’m not gay,” he scoffed, grabbing the pillow and laying his head against it. “Or maybe I am? Men and women are both really pretty.” He squinted at Bucky. “If you were a woman, I’d fuck you.” 

“What are you on today?” Bucky asked, fresh out of pillows to throw at Peter. “Whatever it is, it needs to stop.” 

Peter continued rambling as Sam talked over him. “I think he had too much sugar in his coffee.” 

“Didn’t even have any yet,” he said, shaking his head. 

“It’s too early in the morning to listen to you question your sexuality,” Sam said, leaning his head back. “Go suck a dick and be a man about it.” 

Peter bit his lip. “That wouldn’t help me at all! I already know I like sucking dick!” Peter stopped. “Oops…” 

“Yeah?” Bucky started, “Why don’t you come over here? Show me how much you like it?” 

Peter didn’t waste any time making his way over to Bucky. He fell to his knees with such force there would for sure be a bruise. He eagerly tucks his cock out of his pants and starts stroking it to life. 

Peter really does love sucking dick. Yes, he loves subbing, loves it so dearly. Surrendering himself completely to Bucky, to Steve, to Sam, letting them dictate his pleasure and his pain? He  _ adores  _ it. 

But when he sucks dick? He gets to please them while being in control. It can go either way, really. Bucky can grab him by the hair and fuck his throat roughly, or he can teasingly lick stripes along the side before circling the head and bobbing his mouth up and down his cock. 

Either way, Peter’s happy. 

If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging between his legs. 

“Fuck, Peter, stop.” 

Peter stilled, going completely still. He pulls away from Bucky and retreats. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“Lay on the couch.” 

His heart skips a beat. What the hell did he do? Did he hurt him? With his teeth, maybe? Peter’s panicking, but he lays on the couch anyways. 

“No, other way. On your back.” 

Furrowing his eyebrows, he flipped over. “This is a weird spot to spank me from.” 

“I’m not spanking you, Peter.” 

Peter’s eyes widened. “What’re you going to do?” 

Bucky hushed him. Peter let his head drop against the couch as Bucky tugged his shorts off, leaving him in his Captain America boxers. “Now, why would you think I was punishing my sweet baby boy?” 

Even after all this time, his voice still never fails to drive him wild. He’s stern with him, even when he’s showering him with compliments. He’s rough when he needs to be - when he’s pushing him up against the walls or grabbing his throat as a warning, but he’s so soft when he kisses him, when he praises him, when he’s lightly tracing circles into his back. 

“Becau-” his voice broke for a moment from surprise when Bucky engulfed his entire length in his mouth. “F-Fuck, Bucky!” 

“‘Fuck Bucky’?” Bucky mocked. “I  _ definitely _ wouldn’t punish you for that, sweetheart.” 

“Then you’re not punishing me?” 

“As much as I like to hear you cry, I think I wanna spoil you tonight.” 

Peter was completely on board for that. 

“What if I like getting spanked by you, though?” he said, giving a soft giggle until Bucky grabbed his throat and squeezed. 

“Then you’ll be a good boy and beg for it.” Bucky already had him there. All he had to do was ask and Peter would fall on his knees for him. 

Bucky takes extra care of him, licking up long strides on the underside of his cock before teasing his head. Once Peter bucks, he’ll give in and engulf his cock all the way to the base, jerking his cock with his mouth before popping off and leaving him out of breath. They both were, and only one of them had a cock in his mouth. 

“Fuck, I want it, Bucky! Please!” It really didn’t take long to get him to beg for him. 

“Try it again.” 

“Fuck me, please, Buck--” 

“My name, sweetheart.” His flesh hand clamped down over his nose and mouth, so his breathflow was cut off. He waited until his heartrate audibly picked up before releasing him. “Call me by it, and maybe I will.” 

“Sergeant, please--” 

“Oh, come on, I thought you wanted to get fucked tonight.” 

It clicks instantly. 

Peter craned his head away from Bucky and subconsciously closed his legs. “Daddy, will you… will you fuck me?” 

“Baby, you know better to mumble when you’re talking to me.” 

“Please, I want it!” he begged. “Daddy, please!” 

Always like a switch flipped with him - Bucky is moving him, flipping him over to his stomach. He pushed Peter’s head down into the couch cushion and grabbed the back of his knee roughly so he collapsed further. He pushed his legs further apart and pressed a kiss into his inner ankle. 

Something cold is poured over his hole, and he wiggled his ass. Bucky slapped him harshly across his cheek. “You’ll get what you want - just a little patience.” 

“Daddy, can I take Sam too?” he asked, lifting his head up from the couch. 

“I think I want you all to myself tonight.” 

“I’m busy, anyways, thanks for working,” Sam called, typing away at his laptop. “Not like you’re distracting me or anything.” 

“You could leave,” Bucky offered. 

They stared at each other. 

They both knew damn well that Sam wouldn’t miss this for the world. 

There’s some shuffling behind the scenes, and Peter knows enough by now not to pick up his head no matter how much he wants to. He sucked in his breath and tried to stay impossibly still because he knew what was coming. 

He waited for the familiar sound of Bucky slipped off his belt or the way his boots landed on the ground. 

But it never came. 

He shuffled for a bit, and then, he felt it. He was drooling before he even knew what it was. 

“You like it?” Bucky asked, holding the butt plug firm against his hole. It’s fairly small, but it still burns a bit as he pushes it in. He didn’t have to grit his teeth too hard because the vibrations did a good job distracting him. A really, really good job. 

“Daddy, I thought you were going to fuck me,” he whined, earning a harsh slap again. Bucky worked the butt plug in until it’s secure and then slapped his ass again. And again. And again. 

He picked up a steady pattern, spanking him roughly. The butt plug jostled with every slap, just barely brushing against his prostate. 

“What happened to your patience, baby boy?” 

“But I thought you were spoiling me…” 

“Baby, you have no idea how much I have in store for you tonight.” Bucky slapped the plug this time, and Peter yelped. 

His backside is littered with harsh red handprints. Peter hopes it bruises. 

He loves the reminder - loves the pain when Bucky pulls him to sit on his lap. He squirms out of pure discomfort - a reminder he was the one who did that to him, the one who makes him embarassingly turned down everytime he sits down. 

He hates it when the bruises fade, but he’s never too sad for too long because he knows his daddy will always spank him again. He just has to ask. And, well, maybe, be a little bit of a bad boy sometimes. 

After his backside is warmed enough for his liking - and Bucky knows it’s enough because at this point Peter is trembling and obviously restraining himself from grinding against the couch (he figures he’s been patient long enough, like the good boy he is), he wraps his hand around his cock. 

“Daddy, please, please, please!” Peter grips the couch, tearing through it with his strength. He can’t help it sometimes (some holes surely still linger in the compound. Tony doesn’t like to repair them right away - not when they’re his). 

Peter is still young, after all, and he can’t keep his superhuman strength in tact. Bucky doesn’t mind, though. It’s a compliment, really. 

The others made a game out of it. There’s a silent contest of who can out-fuck Peter’s mind enough that he looses his grip and tears through something. 

Bonus points if Peter gets super ashamed about it and the culprit in question gets to tease him about it. 

It’s a win win situation. 

Currently Peter is losing his fucking mind over Bucky. He can’t take multipe stimuli at once - hell, the kid barely stands when one person is touching him. Oh, and how Bucky loves him to tease him with the featherly light touches. 

Bucky waits for his tell - whenever Peter’s close, his toes curl especially hard and he squeaks before clamping down on something, usually whatever is closest to his face. Just in time, he releases his hand, and he watches as he was just a second too late and Peter’s pitiful cock leaks tiny droplets of cum. 

He lets out a cry, chasing the waves of release but not getting them. 

“Damn, Barnes, you’re being an asshole tonight.” 

“Shut up, Sam.” 

Peter buried his face into the couch and Bucky takes out the butt plug. Peter cried out sharply, but Bucky is quick to fix the situation. He slips his fingers into his mouth to suck on. “Here you go, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He gives Peter a moment to recover before slipping his fingers out. 

“Daddy, that was…” He hiccuped softly, “so mean.” 

“I know, baby, but I’m going to make you feel really good, okay?” 

He’s a man of his word. 

He traces his fingers over the soft area in his neck. He touches Peter gently, just the way he knows he likes, before his cock is hardening again. 

By the time Bucky is touching his stomach, he’s completely hard. 

“You ready, baby?” 

“Please! Please, please, daddy fuck me! Fuck, I wanna--I wanna come, please! I want you to use me--” His voice cut off when Bucky slid into him slowly. His breath caught in his throat. 

He went completely still. “Keep talking, sweetheart, if you really want it.” 

“Please, please, please!” Peter wasn’t much for dirty talk, but when his mind was broken enough, he would just spill whatever was on his mind without even thinking. “I want you to fuck me so hard it hurts. I wanna be your own little sex toy, just for you and Sam and Steve to use whenever you want!” 

Well, that was new. 

Sam’s laptop was dim now. He was gazing hungrily over at the two of them, and Bucky was ecstatic when he made eye contact with him. “You want to be daddy’s little sex toy?” 

Fuck, this kid surprises him more and more everyday. 

“I just want you to use me for your pleasure!” he cried. Bucky started moving, and Peter was openly sobbing. “Please may I come?” 

Bucky laughed. “I thought you just wanted me to use you for my own pleasure?” He squeezed the base of his cock, and Peter cried. 

“Well, I thought you were going to be nice to me tonight, but here we are!” he whined, crying louder when Bucky stopped. “No, daddy, please! Use me, but maybe be a lenient daddy and let his good boy come tonight?” 

“You’re right; you really have been good.” Bucky continued thrusting, waiting for that tell again. As soon as it’s there, he pulled out, and Peter sobbed. 

“What? I thought you were going to let me have it!” he exclaimed, burying his face in the couch. 

“You can come after daddy has, okay?” 

That perked him up right away. Peter wiggled his ass, fucking himself on his cock. 

Bucky slapped him, grabbing him roughly by the hips. “We go at my pace.” 

“Yes, sir,” he squeaked, going still and letting Bucky slowly start up again at an excruciating pace. He bites his bottom lip until it’s bleeding. 

“You are my perfect little toy,” he spoke as he thrust, giving a careful squeeze to his cock. Peter’s legs are shaking - they twitch with every single thrust. 

Bucky starts to get close himself so he picks up he pace, and Peter is making punched little noises, filling the room with moans Bucky has so cleverly elicted from him. 

Bucky also has a tell when he comes. He doesn’t moan much, aside from when he’s talking and one will sneak into his voice. However, sometimes if he’s particularly losing it, he will groan. Especially when he’s coming. 

Warmth fills his ass. “Thank you, daddy,” he cried, even as Bucky pulled out. “Wait, wait, daddy!” 

“Shh,” he hushed, slipping the butt plug in. It turned on, and Peter was shaking more violently. His captain america boxers were tugged over his cock, and Bucky manhandled him until the boy was in his lap. 

Just the way he liked it. His ass still stings from the spanking, and it’s like a fire when he’s forced down on his lap. Peter buried his head in the crook of his neck as the plug in his ass carries him further towards his orgasm. Bucky guides him through it. He rubs circles into his back and peppered him with kisses until Peter is coming in his boxers. 

“Thank you, daddy, thank you, thank you…” He carries on like a broken record until the butt plug stops vibrating and he falls asleep on his lap. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long to update! i have so many wips in progress and unlike most every other writer, i still have to go to work and have online classes ;-;
> 
> anyways if u loved pls leave a comment! and if u have a prompt idea pls hit up my tumblr at precious-peterparker! pls or just talk to me about poly avengers pls


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